and
speak

MARIE: “Lud, Lud, who was it said…that quote about…oh, you know, what was that quote? Here, give me your glasses. Do you remember?”
LUD: “Did you just hear what you said, Marie?”
MARIE: “Well, I reckon so. I just said it. What?”
LUD: “You ’bout to say something somebody said – you couldn’t think who said it or what it was they said.”
MARIE: (To cat) “Oh, and I suppose that that never happens to him, does it, Bootsie?”
LUD: (superior) “If I couldn’t think who said something or what it was they said, I simply would not bring up the subject, Marie… I’d simply keep my mouth shut. Somethin’ I wish you’d consider more often.”
MARIE: (Let’s out a masochistic sigh) “I used to tolerate that kind of talk. I told myself it was your hernia made you act so hateful. I have let you walk all over me. I’ll bet if I called that radio psychologist she’d tell me to just pack my bags and cut loose. Easy for her to say . . . she has a degree in psychology.”
LUD: “Oh, I doubt that.”

LUD: “You know what your problem is toots? You can’t concentrate; you’ve got a brain like a hummingbird… makes you appear dense and at the same time flighty. Did you ever see a hummingbird try to make up its mind which flower to land on? Well, picture your brain in place of that bird. And you have a clue as to what I have to put up with.”

MARIE: “I used to tolerate that kind of talk. I told myself it was your hernia made you act so hateful. I have let you walk all over me. I’ll bet if I called that radio psychologist she’d tell me to just pack my bags and cut loose. Easy for her to say . . . she has a degree in psychology.”

LUD: “Oh, I doubt that. You know what your problem is, Marie?”

MARIE: “I missed out on college just like I did everything else.”

LUD: “You know what your problem is, Marie?”

MARIE: “Yes, you.”

LUD: “Oh hell, if you’re so damn right all the time, how come we have a daughter we don’t understand too good, and a pink-haired punk granddaughter, got the manners of a terrorist. Leaves dirty finger-prints on the cheese, wears something makes the garage door flap up. Old man Sanders stops me out here says he saw somethin’ odd lookin’ in the yard. Worried we might have poltergeists. I had to say, “No, that wasn’t no poltergeist, that was my grand-daughter. She glows in the dark ’cause her necklace is a reflective flea collar.” How in the hell do you think that makes me feel? “

MARIE: (Surprised at news, almost in tears)
“Well, Lud! Why didn’t you just go on and let him think it was poltergeists? Go in there and just jerk the plug out of the socket.“

MARIE: “Lud, do you realize that nothing has turned out the way we planned it? Not our retirement plan. Not those astro-turf neckties, which were gonna sell like hotcakes at halftime. Not our patio addition out back. Not our daughter and, now, not our granddaughter.”

MARIE: “You go on to bed. I’m going to sit up here ’til she gets back. Lud… go on, now go on to bed now. Lud, go on now, quit.”
(Crushes fist to mouth, fighting tears)
” ‘Member when she was little? She’d stay over. I’d make chocolate milk, then I’d make me a little milk mustache, pretend I didn’t notice. And then you’d make one and there we’d be – the two of us with little milk mustaches. Used to just tickle her to death.”

LUD: (At bedroom door) “Agnus. Agnus! Turn that junk music down! You better learn some manners young lady, or else…”
AGNUS: (Screams) ” …or else, what, Granddaddy Speck?”
MARIE: (Calls out, brightly) “Or else people are not gonna like you, honey. You want to be liked, don’t you? Everybody wants to be liked.”
AGNUS: (Screams) “Not me! I’m different!”
LUD: “Well, I can’t argue with that.”